


Brief

by Fyre



Series: A Little Kindness [5]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Slow Show - mia_ugly
Genre: Alternative Perspective, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:08:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22860772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fyre/pseuds/Fyre
Summary: “Dealing with the fanmail, are you, duck?”Avery smiled as Tracy trotted over to his desk and dropped a kiss on top of his head. “Not this time.” He tilted the page for her to see. “I thought it might be nice to invite Crowley for dinner now we’re back in the city. A bit more personal, rather than just e-mailing him.”
Series: A Little Kindness [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1628107
Comments: 35
Kudos: 135





	Brief

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mia_ugly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mia_ugly/gifts).



“Dealing with the fanmail, are you, duck?”

Avery smiled as Tracy trotted over to his desk and dropped a kiss on top of his head. “Not this time.” He tilted the page for her to see. “I thought it might be nice to invite Crowley for dinner now we’re back in the city. A bit more personal, rather than just e-mailing him.”

She gave him one of those looks. It spoke volumes about her Views. “You’ve got his mobile number. Isn’t that a bit more personal than a ‘you are formally invited to dinner’ invitation?”

He made a face at her. “What’s more personal than sitting down and hand-writing an invitation?”

“Bet he’ll think you’ve got a paid calligrapher,” she teased him, tugging the curls at the nape of his neck. “You going to get a haircut soon?”

He widened his eyes up at her. “I was going to ask…”

“Say no more!” She flurried off and five minutes later, she had a towel whisked around his shoulders and was clipping away at the curls that had become part and parcel of William’s character. “So how fancy is this letter, then? Prithee gentles, thou art requested–”

“Oh shush,” he said, laughing as he looked up at her. “You know I’m not that bad.”

“Was a bit touch and go when you came off that run at the RSC,” she pointed out, taking his head between her hands and making him face forward. “Now, stop moving if you want to have both ears the same length.”

He rolled his eyes fondly and glanced down at the letter. Maybe, he thought, she did have a point. “You don’t think it’s a bit much?”

“I think,” she said, dragging the comb through his hair, “that it’s a bit _you_. Lets everyone know what they’re in for, doesn’t it?” She squeezed one of his shoulders. “For good measure, thump one of those big red sticker thingies on it. Make it look extra fancy.”

“You just want to play with my seal again. I’ve met toddlers who are worse.”

She pinched his earlobe between her nails. “Oi! You cheeky beggar!”

“Stamp!” he agreed, holding up his hand in surrender. “You wish to imprint my seal with your elegant hand!”

“S’the only way you’ll ever get it straight,” she grumbled cheerfully. “Last time you done it, it looked like a sideways V.”

Avery smiled crookedly. “Fine. I’ll dig out the wax once I finish the letter.”

She brushed off the back of his neck with her fingers. “Lovely. And that’s much better now, isn’t it?”

He reached back and smoothed the shorter ends. “Perfect, my dear.” He smiled up at her. “Thank you.”

She swatted his shoulder. “Give over.” She gathered up the towel and the mess of hair. “Can you hoover the rest up after?”

“Of course.”

She puttered about around, occasionally popping back with a cup of tea and some biscuits.

“You’re taking a long time on this one,” she said, when she finally plopped herself down on the daybed beside the desk. “I thought you got on all right with him.”

Avery gazed down at the paper – his fourth draft – and sighed. “We do. I just– it’s– going from colleagues at work to meeting outside of work is always going to be a little odd. Isn’t it?”

“Sometimes,” Tracy agreed, setting her elbow on the arm of the daybed and cupping her chin in her hand. “If you got on all right on the set, don’t see why it needs to be any different when you’re off. He’s nice enough, isn’t he? Not all stuck up and twatty?”

Avery couldn’t help the smile that crept across his lips. “No,” he murmured. “Not stuck up or twatty at all. He’s…” It was hard to pinpoint exactly how to describe a man who was so gifted and skilled and yet as brittle as a pane of cracked glass. “He’s a gift to work with. So generous. He will happily reel in his performances if he feels someone else’s should shine at any moment.”

“Good thing too,” Tracy declared. “If he’d tried to outshine you, I’d put the boot in and no mistake.”

Avery laughed, giving her a look. “You _know_ you can’t threaten my co-stars, Trace.”

“Why not?” She beamed at him. “Defending your honour and my budget, aren’t I?”

“How generous,” he said, making a face.

“S’nice you’ve made a friend, though,” she added, still smiling. “I know how uppity some actors can be. About time you had someone who wasn’t a complete pillock to work with.”

“He has his moments,” Avery murmured, smiling quietly.

And he did, but only in the best ways.

The faces he made, the way he had no shame about poking fun at anyone at all but at Avery in particular, the mischief in his honey-brown eyes, the playful nudges, the sarcastic teasing. It didn’t happen nearly often enough, but Avery was trying his damnedest to encourage it, to have him enjoy himself, rather than doubt and second-guess his every action, to bask in the fact that he – they – were doing well. 

Those moments, when Crowley was happy – pleased with a take or a particular joke or with surprising Avery with an unexpected cupcake – were like a breath to a cinder, making it glow and shine and making Avery feel warmer and happier than he had for years.

“I like him,” he surprised himself by saying it out loud. “Anthony. I didn’t– I hoped I would, but I didn’t expect to.”

Tracy leaned over the arm of the daybed and gave his arm a warm squeeze. “I’m glad. It’ll do you good, having someone to keep you company. It’s a long shoot to be on your own.”

He nodded. Yes, a little company would do him good. And if he enjoyed it a little more than he ought to, no one would ever, ever know.


End file.
